(Y/N)

She's my only thought. My only concern.

(Y/N)

When I finally manage to break through the sea of people I can see her being dragged away. She hangs limp from the hands of the men who grabbed her. Her hair hangs in a curtain across her face and and the skirt of her dress is dragged along underneath her, the lace tearing at the strain against it.

When I try to run after her. The sea that had previously parted comes together to block me again.

"What is wrong with you people?!" I cry, balling my fists to avoid hurting these people. "Those fuckers just kidnapped her and you're just sitting here and letting them drag her away! She didn't even do anything wrong!"

"The same could be said of you, Mr. Barnes." A small group to my left speaks in unison, the expression on their faces utterly blank. "But a price must be paid. Whether it is you or Ms. (Y/L/N), we don't care. As long as there is some retribution, we will be pleased."

"You people are insane."

"That may be true, but we are no more unstable than you are." A new group to my right speaks.

Something inside me snaps and I shove my way through the crowds, pushing people out of my way as they surge forward to stop me. As soon as I'm clear of the last person, I break into a sprint and follow in the direction I last saw the men take (Y/N). I can hear the group chanting "Hail Hydra" behind me.

Bursting through the back doors I catch a glimpse of the pale pink fabric of (Y/N)'s dress around the corner. I race to catch up only to round the corner to see a truck driving away. I fall to my knees, staring after the vehicle taking the person most important to me away.

–

"Steve," Bucky's voice is shaking despite his attempts to keep it steady. He bursts through the door of the hotel room, heads to the bedroom and immediately starts pacing.

"Hey, Buck, how's the mission going?" Steve asks, his tone light.

"They took her." Bucky answers. "Steve, they took (Y/N)."

"Wait, who took her?"

"Hydra. Hydra grabbed her while we were at the gala. She tried to fight back, but they drugged her and something weird was going on with everyone in the ballroom and they closed around me and by the time I was able to get through the crowd they already had a huge head start and they drove off with her before I could catch up. Steve, I have to get her back."

"Why would they take her? No one was supposed to know who either of you are. That's why Fury was comfortable with asking the two of you to go on this mission..."

"I don't know, but something seems really, really off." Bucky falls heavily onto the bed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, head in hand. "I have to get her back."

"Don't worry, we're on our way." Steve says, trying to reassure his friend. "We're gonna get her back, Buck. We'll get her back."

–

My head is pounding. I've never had a headache this bad in my life. This is some next level cranial aching and I am not prepared to deal with it. My body seems to agree with me and I pass out, unable to keep myself conscious with the stabbing pain in my head.

Someone grabs a fistfull of my hair and wrenches my head back, waking me instantly. My eyes fly open and land on steel gray eyes looking coldly back at me. The person looking at me hisses and, after one firm yank, releases my hair and moves to stand in front of me.

I blink at them, trying to clear the blurriness from my vision. As they come into focus I feel my blood run cold.

"You're supposed to be dead." I breathe. "I killed you."

"You're going to have to do better next time if you really want to kill me." He sneers at me. I roll my eyes pulling at the shackles on my wrists.

"You're wife is a lovely woman, Lance." I smirk at him, only knowing it'll get a rise out of him. "I only wish I could say the same for you."

"You!" He slaps me hard across the face, the sound echoing through the space, and the force of the blow snapping my head to the side. I close my eyes for a moment to compose myself before turning back to the man in front of my and glaring at him. "How dare you speak of Rosalind in front of me!"

"I'm sorry, I thought you liked playing dirty." I retort, before tilting my head to the side contemplatively. "Oh right, it's only when you're the one playing dirty."

"I don't know, I think it's sort of hot when you play dirty, dear Adeline." A familiar voice floats through the space from somewhere off in the corner. James saunters out of the shadows, hands in the pockets of his suit pants, and takes his place beside his grandfather. "Or should I call you (Y/N)?"

"Call me anything you like as long as you don't call me yours, you pervert." I hiss.

"Ooh, such harsh words." He crouches down to meet my eye level and cradles my chin in his hands. "I wonder how long it'll take to take that fight away from you." I spit in his face, glaring at him defiantly. He feels back and wipes his face with his hand. "So that's how it's going to be." He makes a harsh tsking noise. "I had hoped for better from you."

"Don't worry, boy, we'll get better from her once we've finished. Now that we've got her, she's not going anywhere. She won't get away this time."

"Speaking of, how did you find me?" I turn back to James's grandfather, cocking an eyebrow. "I did such a good job of disappearing. No one should have known where I was aside from a few select S.H.I.E.L.D. agents."

"Hydra penetrated S.H.I.E.L.D. once. Did you think we wouldn't be able to do it a second time? Perhaps even a third?" Lance sneers.

"I guess you're right." I concede. "What do you want with me?"

"I'm going to make you perfect." Lance answers simply. "Even better than you were before Hydra lost you the first time."

"Try your fucking best." I spit, lunging at him, only to be stopped short of my goal by the restraints around my wrists. "I don't work like that anymore."

"We'll see about that."

–

Steve, Tony and Pietro file through the door of the hotel room, trying to look as inconspicuous as they possibly can and failing miserably. The sunglasses, baseball caps and hoodies never fool anyone when you're as well known as the three of them. Bucky just shakes his head, closes the door and follows after them.

Tony quickly sets up an array of floating monitors, pulling up information that could possibly be important, Bucky doesn't know or care, so he ignores the code flitting from one side of the screens to the next. Instead he sits on the couch and watches Steve and Pietro pacing across the room, trying to figure out what they've got running through their brains. After a few minutes of watching them he can't take it anymore and snaps.

"If you keep pacing like that you're going to fall through the floor." Bucky's voice almost comes out in a growl. Steve freezes in place and looks at his friend. After seeing how serious Bucky looks he reaches back and, without looking, grabs onto Pietro's shirt collar and stills his pacing.

"Sorry, Buck." Steve apologizes and Pietro just stares blankly head beside him. "I just don't know how we can help. Tony's got the tech, we're just the muscle here."

"I know, I'm sorry." Bucky shakes his head and runs his hands through his hair, working out any tangles left from his attempts at sleep from the night before which only ended with him tossing and turning and failing to sleep at all. He's silent for a long time, staring at the swirling floral pattern of the rug. "I just... How could I have let this happen?"

"It wasn't your fault, there wasn't anything you could have done." Steve takes a seat on the coffee table in front of Bucky and places a hand on his shoulder.

"I should have been paying better attention." Bucky looks up at Steve, his expression forlorn. "The only reason I was placed on the mission was because she needed backup and Fury thought she and I had the best chemistry. She was the smart one, Steve. She knew exactly who she was supposed to be and what she was supposed to say. Before the gala last night she had to quiz me on my cover. I'm only here because she needed protection. Look at all the good that did..."

"We'll get her back." Pietro sits beside Bucky on the couch, shuffling awkwardly. "She's strong and we will find her and we will get her back."

–

They try there best with their brainwashing techniques. They use the propaganda images and footage that Hydra used on the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents they commandeered, only to find that I'm bored by the continuous barrage of images. Lance seems to have forgotten just how much torture he put me through when he still had me.

After an hour of having me strung up in front of the projector screen with zero results, Lance orders a few of his techs to take me down. After releasing me from my shackles they drag me into another room with an all too familiar chair in the center. I thrash in their holds at the sight of it, successfully throwing one of the techs into the wall. A sickening crunch follows their contact and they fall to the floor, head lolling forwards, chin hitting chest. Four more techs swarm around me and manage to pin my arms behind my back as they pull me towards the chair. As soon as they're close enough they thrust me forward into the chair, forcing me to take a seat. As soon as my arms hit the arm rests one of the techs slams their hand down on a button which immediately triggers the cuffs to close and clamp down around my arms. My panic rises further when Lance saunters out to the front of the room, red book of directives in hand. For a moment I allow myself to wonder why Hydra has such a fascination with red before realizing that I don't actually care.

The chair tips back as Lance begins to recite the directives. The halo of electrodes encircles my head and covers part of my face and my eyes and jaw clamp shut out of instinct. I have one last moment of clear, coherent thought before a strong burst of electricity surges through my body, sending a searing white pain through my head. I can't hear the man speaking over my own strangled cries. Seven more waves of electricity surge through my body and I swear if it doesn't stop my jaw is going to shatter with how hard my facial muscles are clamping it shut.

Everything seems to slow to a halt when the round of shocks is over. I can't seem to stop shaking and I see Lance still pacing in front of me. I'm sure he's still reciting directives and I can't bring myself to give a shit until I realize that he's trying to reactivate me I panic for a moment before remembering the precautions taken after I arrived at the tower. Wanda poked around in my head until she found the trigger words and the actions linked to them and destroyed the links. I don't work the way they want me to anymore. Lance didn't believe me when I told him as much and as soon as they try to control me and find that they can't, they're going to torture me.

I work to slow my breathing as I watch the man pacing in front of me, trying to remember what it was like after I got wiped when I was still a mindless Hydra tool. Everything seemed gray and every word that came out of me was monotone. I'm horrified by what I have to do in order to survive, but when Lance stops his pacing and leans down to inspect my face I'm forced to shove every feeling down in favor of neutrality.

"How do you feel, (Y/N)?" He asks.

"Insufficiently rested, sir." I answer, my voice stiff and monotone, my breathing still ragged.

He scowls at me but waves his hands to the techs. The cuffs around my wrists and arms are released and I'm pulled to my feet. The techs hold me in place but a small handful of men stand off to the side, guns at the ready, just waiting for me to step out of line. I just stand there, staring blankly at nothing in particular.

Eventually they get tired of waiting for me to do something and lead me away from the machine and into an elevator. There has to be at least ten guards in the elevator alone and I realize just how much it means to them to get me back. Bucky was a great tool at first because Hydra could use him to get to Steve. I, on the other hand, am close with the whole team. If they actually succeed in wiping me, they could manage to take out the whole team and, potentially, get the Winter Soldier back in one go. All in all, if I can't pull this off, the Avengers are royally fucked.

When the elevator stops moving the guards shove me through the doors and down the hallway. I strip over the skirts of my dress every now and again and the lag in my pace just seems to make the guards even more impatient with me. When we reach the end of the hall there's only one door with no window. The only indication that there's actually a room behind the door is the line of soft light filtering through the crack between the bottom of the door and the floor.

A harsh buzzing sounds through the hall, signaling that the door has been unlocked. One guard wrenches the door open and a group of five others shove me through the doorway before slamming it shut behind me. I stand there, blinking in the light of the room, trying to adjust to the new environment. I shake my head and gather up the skirts of my dress in my hands, wrap the two sections around my thighs and tie off the ends around my waist to create a sort of jumpsuit.

"Who's there?" Someone pipes up from somewhere in the room. I turn slowly, scanning the room for the source of the voice. When my gaze reaches the far left corner of the room I feel the blood drain from my face. My knees buckle and I stumble backwards a ways.

"Holy shit." I whisper.

Standing in front of me is a ghost. Someone I thought I had seen killed.

"(Y/N)? Is that you?" She asks softly.

"Melissa?"